The Apology
by eyedentification
Summary: Murdoc makes amends. (My own take on a common Gorillaz fanfic trope.)


The session wound down for the night, and 2D decided the mix he was working on was going nowhere. He also realized he'd been George Martin-ing the levels gradually higher and higher over the past several hours, to where it was reaching future-deafness-volume in his phones. Time to call it a night and start fresh in the 1pm-ish they called 'morning'.

He stood up, rubbed his sore ears, then indulged in a luxurious stretch. His hands almost reached the ceiling, which always tickled him for some reason. At that moment, he spotted the brief orange glow of a cigarette out of the corner of his eye, illuminating Murdoc sitting in a dark corner of the booth. 2D instinctively froze, then gingerly lowered his arms. Any overt display of his superior height was near the top of his mental list of Murdoc temper-triggers.

However, Murdoc seemed lost in his own thoughts, so 2D let out a relieved breath and started slowly side-stepping to the door.

"Can we talk?" Murdoc's voice was almost a whisper.

2D envisioned himself covering the few feet to the door, getting it open, running down the outer hall to the adjoining hall that led to yet another hall that led to the stairs, then down the three flights to the parking lot. He then envisioned Murdoc taking him down like a fleeing gazelle on the Serengeti before he'd even reached the door. He cleared his throat nervously. "Um … o-okay?"

Murdoc crushed out the cigarette and slowly stood. 2D again suppressed the instinct screaming 'run' in his mental ear. He wondered if Russ and Noodle were still somewhere in the building. Murdoc gestured to the chair 2D had only just got up from, and 2D reluctantly sat back down, already bracing for whatever abuse (mental, emotional, or good old fashioned physical) that was surely headed his way. It had been quite some time, he suddenly realized, so Murdoc must have a lot stored up by now.

However, Murdoc just pulled his own chair out of the corner, sat down facing 2D, then folded his hands in his lap and stared down at them for an uncomfortable stretch of time. Against his better judgment, 2D found his fear dissipating and his curiosity stirring. If he didn't know better, he'd swear Murdoc looked …almost gentle, somehow. Subdued.

"All right?" 2D heard himself say, then blinked in surprise at his own boldness. Even more surprising, Murdoc just shrugged, still looking down. "This is difficult for me," Murdoc finally said. "Really difficult."

Now fully intrigued, 2D leaned forward, though he resisted the urge to reach out and touch Murdoc's hand or shoulder. "S'okay," he said instead. "Take your time."

Murdoc sighed, and finally raised his head to meet 2D's gaze. "Thanks."

2D felt a tiny bubble of joy in his chest. He still didn't understand what was happening, but something deep inside himself was stirring. 'Nostalgia' he might have called it, with a dash of 'hope', and other things he didn't have a name for, but felt wonderful just the same. In his darkest hours, he'd dreamed of scenes like this. Okay, he also sometimes dreamed of Murdoc dying slowly in a fire as magical fireproof weasels nibbled on his privates, but most of the time it was more like this. He sensed it was one of those moments where he should say something else, but winced when all he could come up with was, "I'm here for you."

Murdoc actually smiled a little. "Thanks," he said again.

The bubble of joy shot up to 2D's brain and exploded into multi-colored joy-fireworks. "That's okay!" he chirped happily.

Murdoc sat up straighter, slapped his own knees, and 2D didn't even flinch. "So!" Murdoc said. "Here goes. You know I've been seeing a therapist, right?"

2D didn't know, but it seemed impolite to say so. He nodded. It was strange, he thought. Murdoc usually bragged in graphic detail about his girlfriends.

"Well," Murdoc continued. "This week she gave me a special assignment."

2D just nodded again. Even stranger, he thought. Murdoc never struck him as the schoolboy-fantasy type.

"I need to talk to someone I've hurt in the past, and," Murdoc almost choked on the word, "apologize."

2D felt a jolt of shock that sent goosebumps traveling up his neck and into his scalp, mingling with the joy. This was unprecedented. Uncharted. This … this was new! 'New' and 'Murdoc' were two words that just never happened together. Ever.

Murdoc chuckled softly, as if he'd read 2D's mind. "I know, right?"

2D opened his mouth, but no sound came out, so he closed it again. Tried to nod, but it just came out as a sort of tremble. His mind tripped around like an elephant trapped in a very dark, very small china shop.

A familiar flicker of annoyance in Murdoc's eyes grounded him. "If I may?" Murdoc said, his tone still all politeness.

"Y-yes, of course," 2D choked out.

Murdoc stood, and turned to face the dark corner. "I'm sure you remember Plastic Beach." He paused, but it wasn't really a question, so 2D just waited as fragmented, shattered memories flashed across his mind – a few pleasant, most not, some … he pushed those quickly away.

"Well," Murdoc continued. "I did something … wrong." He turned back to face 2D, his expression unreadable. "Really wrong."

2D couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't even think, so he just waited.

Murdoc's gaze lost focus as he spoke. "I was drinking a lot in those days. Rum, mostly." His voice got even softer. "Other things, too, that I ..." he broke off and shuddered. "But a lot of rum."

"Yes," 2D managed.

Murdoc nodded. "Yes … yes." 2D was afraid Murdoc would get stuck on the word, like he sometimes did, but Murdoc continued. "I had supplies shipped in every few weeks, you know." He hesitated and chuckled. "What am I saying? Of course you know!" 2D couldn't bring himself to join in the laughter, and Murdoc stopped and cleared his throat awkwardly. "Yes, well, sometimes things ran low, you know, before … " he waved a hand in the air. "Kettle crisps."

"Kettle … um?"

Murdoc raised a hand. "No, I mean, one time we ran out of Kettle crisps."

"We ran," 2D found himself repeating stupidly, "out of Kettle crisps."

"Yes." Murdoc seemed pleased, as if 2D was actually following along. "Sea salt and vinegar, to be precise."

2D just stared at him.

"Your favourite," Murdoc prompted him.

"My favourite," 2D echoed.

"Exactly!" Murdoc beamed one of his pointy-toothed smiles that always simultaneously frightened and impressed 2D, then took a deep breath and spoke in a rapid-fire rush of words: "So we were down to one bag, you see? Only one, and I didn't really know when the next delivery was, what with the weather, and … yes. Anyway, I was drinking my usual rum and Coke, only we'd run out of Coke, and I just got a bit … well, peckish! And there was this one bag of crisps sitting there, and I thought … I remember this distinctly! I thought, 'Those are 2D's favourite crisps.' And then I ..." he suddenly broke off and hunched over, as if in pain. He turned away, once more facing the dark corner.

"You what?" 2D asked, incredulous, but Murdoc took it as a genuine question. He even let out a single soft sob.

"Well, I bloody ate them, didn't I!" He spun back around to 2D, his eyes almost wild. "I don't even like that flavour!"

2D just shook his head, his mind now a hopeless kaleidoscope, as disappointment mingled with the lingering sparks of fading joy. Murdoc suddenly lurched forward and gripped him painfully by the shoulders. "I ATE THEM!" he cried. They stared into each others eyes, almost nose-to-nose. Somewhere in the swirl of noise inside his head, 2D noted that Murdoc's breath didn't smell like booze.

Murdoc released him and stumbled back a few steps. "Sorry."

2D realized his own mouth was hanging open. He tried to speak, but his tongue was dry and stuck to the roof of his mouth in the attempt.

"Yes, I said it!" Murdoc's eyes were still as wide as 2D had ever seen them, but the wildness eased just a bit. "I'm sorry," he repeated.

2D's scattered thoughts and emotions suddenly pulled together, like a collapsing star into a black hole, as what had just taken place clicked neatly back into the familiar. He licked his lips to ensure he was back in control of his own tongue. "You're sorry."

"Yes."

"For … for eating a bag of crisps."

Murdoc paused and looked sideways, as if considering his answer. "Yeeesss. But not just any bag, you get that right? It was your bag. I ate YOUR bag of crisps, and I shouldn't have, and I'm sorry." He puffed up his chest. "Wow, I can't tell you how good this feels! Amazing!" He laughed.

2D about decided the trip to the door was worth the risk.

Murdoc continued, "As I recall, I just vomited the whole thing back back up an hour later, too." He finally seemed to notice 2D just sitting in silence. "Yes, well. Um, I guess that's … oh, wait!" He spun back around and stooped down to retrieve something from the dark corner. "I'm also supposed to make amends. Here!" He tossed a unopened bag of Kettle crisps onto the sound board next to 2D, where it knocked several sliders out of place. With that, he spun on his heel and left the booth, whistling cheerfully to himself, not bothering to close the door behind him.

2D wasn't even sure how much time passed before Russ peeked around the door frame. "Everything okay in here?" 2D blinked and turned to look at the bag of crisps, then back at Russ.

Russ stepped inside the open door and snatched up the bag. "Hey, you're gonna get crumbs all over the console."

"I don't even like them," 2D said.

"What?" Russ held out the bag. "Well, then, why ..."

"Murdoc gave them to me."

"Ugh!" Russ melodramatically dropped the bag and backed away from it.

"I've never liked them."

Russ shrugged. "I only like chips with dip. Hey, hurry up and finish in here, Noodle says we're leaving in fifteen."

2D stood and carefully picked the bag back up, holding it in both hands and gazing at it for a few moments. "Coming," he added to Russ, who was looking at him strangely.

"What are you smiling about?" Russ asked.

2D glanced up at him. "I am?" He looked back at the bag, and realized that the little bubble was back. "I have no idea." He retrieved his knapsack from under the console and swung it over his shoulder with one hand as he carefully cradled the crisps with the other.

"You still gonna eat those?"

This time, 2D felt himself smile. "Never." He followed Russ out of the booth.

End


End file.
